


A revolution in my bed

by Ciasquare



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - BDSM, Asphyxiation, Child Abuse, Choking, Collars, Dom Akechi Goro, Domestic Violence, Fluff and Angst, Hand Feeding, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Kneeling, M/M, Non-Sexual Submission, Physical Abuse, Safeword Use, Self-Indulgent, Sub Kurusu Akira, Sub Persona 5 Protagonist, Top Drop, Undressing, Whipping, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:22:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26374915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ciasquare/pseuds/Ciasquare
Summary: Goro angles his head up and moves in close till their foreheads are pressed together and all Akira can see is the brown of Goro's eyes, the honey sheen his hair takes on as it falls around them like a curtain."How about this," Goro says softly, "I'll put your collar on and we can get dinner in the kitchen.""Okay," Akira says, and Goro's hair puffs away at the air of his breath.orAkira is a sub with a lot of trauma and Goro is a dom with a lot of insecurities. A glimpse of their relationship as Goro brings Akira through a down.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 26
Kudos: 167





	A revolution in my bed

**Author's Note:**

> Please mind the tags! A non-explicit summary of the events which I have tagged for are included in the end notes.
> 
> I owe my beloved friend [Mocochang](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mocochang) like a billion thanks for letting me scream at her all day everyday about this story. She also read like every draft and listened to all my plans despite not being in the P5 fandom because she's an angel and I don't deserve her.
> 
> Thanks also to [idemandacat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/idemandahug/pseuds/ProfessionalCatFan) for the beta read and [kivaember](https://twitter.com/kivaember?s=20) and [Callie](https://twitter.com/sumjuice4dapoor?s=20) for their help with worldbuilding!
> 
> Special thanks to Gora, whom I cannot tag because she is not a fangirl, but who is the sweetest, most supportive and precious person ever.

_When Akira is 12, he walks into the living room where his parents are watching a movie._

_He's trying to be as unobtrusive as possible, just slipping into the kitchen to get a glass of water, when a voice from the television commands, "Kneel."_

_He goes to the floor without really thinking about it. Years later, he'll find out that his form was textbook, instinctively perfect, but right then all it means is that he doesn't see the look on his father's face as the man rises from the couch._

_The movie is paused. There isn't any other sound. His father's voice is booming when he speaks._

_"Get up! GET UP!"_

_Akira scrambles to his feet. He's confused at the turn of events. He only did as he was asked, why is there disapproval in his father's tone?_

_"Look at me!"_

_Akira looks. His father's face is pinched with fury. He has a drink in his hands, a scotch on the rocks, the one Mom makes for him almost every night. The ice clinks against the glass. His father's hands are shaking._

_"No son of mine is a submissive. Do you hear me?!"_

_His father smashes the glass on the ground and it shatters apart, some of the shards bouncing off his feet in pinpricks of pain. The scotch splatters onto his legs, cool droplets landing on his face._

_Akira tries to keep looking at his father as he was instructed, but somehow it's difficult to maintain eye contact right now. Something within him shivers at it, wanting nothing more than to keep his head down. He listens to it, watching the puddle of scotch and ice at his feet spread and spread and spread._

_He doesn't see the glint in his father's eyes. Maybe it is for the best. He will have plenty more chances to witness it in the future._

_"You want to kneel?" His father's voice is low now and as cold as the ice at his feet. "Kneel then."_

_"Dear?" Mom walks over. Her steps are as tentative as her voice. "Dear, stop it."_

_"What? The boy wants to kneel, let him kneel!" His father sneers._

_"Dear, he can't help it."_

_"Well, he's going have to learn to help it then, won't he?"_

_The floor is filled with shards and Akira doesn't want to kneel. He's only wearing shorts. His legs are bare and he's afraid. He thinks he's pleading, but he's not sure. It doesn't matter. His father will not listen._

_"Akira, I said **kneel**."_

_Slowly, stiffly, Akira sinks to his knees-_

And meets the soft pillow that Goro had laid down before they started. Someone is pleading, the sound barely carrying to his ears. 

"Please," they whisper under their breath, "please don't… You asked, please. I only did what you asked." 

It's him, Akira realises, strangely detached. He tries to bite back on his words. There's a choked off whimper. It's still him.

Goro reaches for him and Akira flinches, but his hands only rest on his shoulders. They rub his arms gently. The sensations are warm and comforting.

"That's right, you did exactly what I asked," Goro is saying, low and soothing, "You're so good. You're so good for me. Do you want to sit back?"

There's gentle pressure at his shoulders, guiding him to rest on his heels. One hand moves to his hair, petting him in long, smooth strokes, from his hairline all the way to the back of his neck. Something tense in his heart unclenches and he chances a quick look through half-lidded eyes.

Goro is smiling, small and soft. His eyes are crinkled at the corners. 

"Shh," Goro hushes and Akira closes his eyes, focusing on the hand in his hair. The one at his shoulder starts massaging his neck, the thumb moving in slow, firm circles. "So good for me. You're my good boy, aren't you?"

The praise washes over him like a balm and he unspools further, just a pile of thread and loose ends for Goro to take apart and tie back together however he wishes. 

"Do you remember your safewords?"

_When Akira is 16, he walks into a dimly lit room that smells like roses._

_By now he's used to subdrop. Everyone around him thinks he's a dominant, just like his parents wanted, he never goes down for anyone. He would have never considered anything else, but Ryuji and Mishima had been talking over dinner the other day and the way Ryuji had raved…_

_"And then after, she hugged me, and you know the tingles you get when you're coming up? She petted over all of them, it's like she knew exactly where they were!" Ryuji exclaimed, a dreamy look in his eyes. "Man, it was so worth it. If I had the money, I would totally go back. And bonus! No subdrop. If you think about it, you're saving money on fever reducers."_

_"Wow. Maybe I will try it. Where did you say this professional dominant was again?"_

_"They have a shop called Sapphire. It's in Shinjuku! It looks a little dodgy and it's definitely not for first time subs, but you should totally check it out!"_

_"With a review like that, I definitely will. She sounds amazing."_

_It sounded more than amazing. It sounded like a religious experience._

_So Akira had done a couple of searches, booked himself in under a fake name online, and now here he was in this room. The receptionist shows him in, tells him to strip down to his underwear and wait with his head down, hands behind his back._

_He strips, he has no issue with that, but when he goes to the spot she indicated to wait in, he freezes. He can't drop his head - he knows he was asked to, but he can't. He needs to watch the door, needs to watch for blows._

_The receptionist raises her eyebrow at him. "You're rebelling so early? I'm not the dom, you know."_

_Akira doesn't trust himself to speak in anything that isn't a plea, so he keeps his silence, staring at her from under his lashes._

_She sighs. "Suit yourself." She makes to leave and on her way out, another man walks in._

_"He's a brat," she says to him, loud enough for Akira to hear and then shuts the door behind her with a click. The man walks over to him._

_"You won't keep your head down?"_

_"No," Akira manages, shivering at the effort._

_"No, sir."_

_"No," he repeats._

_"Turn around and face the wall."_

_Akira frowns, but he obeys despite his confusion. This is new, his father had never asked him to-_

_There's a crack in the air and a second later a burning hot sensation screams down his back. He howls, too in shock to keep his responses to himself._

_"You need a firm hand, don't you?" The man is saying before the whip - it's a whip - whistles through the air again. Another stripe, right next to the first one and Akira wails._

_"Stop!" He screeches, his voice is already hoarse, "Stop, sir! Please! Please stop! I only- Please! I'm sorry!"_

_"15. I'm not stopping before then. You remember your safewords."_

_Safewords? What was that? He remembers them being mentioned on the site, but he hadn't understood what they were for. What is he supposed to say?_

_The whip flies again-_

"Red," he pants out, "To stop. Like the traffic light."

Goro hums approvingly, "That's right. My boy is so smart." Akira keens in response, shivering at the praise. Goro's hand moves to his face, caressing his cheek.

"You can open your eyes, you can look at me. I like seeing you, darling." 

He opens his eyes. Goro is looking at him almost reverently, like he thinks Akira's precious. It's absurd. 

“Have you eaten yet today?"

Whenever this time of month comes around, Akira doesn't really feel hunger, but he tries to keep himself fed at least once a day. It was almost 7:00PM when they started, so… Probably not? Akira tries to be honest.

"I don't think so." 

Goro raises an eyebrow sardonically. "You don't think so? What did you do today?"

"I ran with Ryuji."

"On an empty stomach?"

Akira tenses. Goro doesn't like it when he doesn't eat. He'd forgotten. "I'm sorry. He called."

"Calm down," Goro soothes, carding a hand through his hair. Akira relaxes into the touch. "He called and you went, hmm? You're a good friend. I'm not angry, I'm just worried." 

Goro scritches his nails against his scalp, keeps petting until the tension bleeds out of him. Akira blinks slowly, sighing as he does. Goro angles his head up and moves in close till their foreheads are pressed together and all Akira can see is the brown of Goro's eyes, the honey sheen his hair takes on as it falls around them like a curtain.

"How about this," Goro says softly, "I'll put your collar on and we can get dinner in the kitchen."

"Okay," Akira says, and Goro's hair puffs away at the air of his breath. Goro chuckles then pulls away, leaving him with one last pat before turning to look for his collar.

Goro is uncharacteristically noisy as he rifles through their things. Drawers open with loud rattles, cabinet doors shut with loud clicks. He's always louder when Akira's down; Akira thinks he does it on purpose to give him something to track him by while he's quiet and still on the floor. 

At last, Goro finds it and comes up behind him. His footsteps telegraph his every move, but he says, "I'm back, I'm behind you," anyway.

Goro hands come around his head and Akira tilts his head back to bare his neck, letting Goro drape his collar around it and pull the ends back. The fabric of it rustles as Goro fiddles with the clasp.

_When Akira is 14, he walks into the house after coming home from school._

_Usually no one except for him is home at this hour, but today his father is sitting on the couch when he comes in._

_"Hands behind your back, head down."_

_It’s a trap, he knows it’s a trap. His father has been tricking him into submitting then punishing him when he does, trying to beat his instincts out of him. He knows this, but his body betrays him, obeying out of the shock of the moment. It's only for a minute, he's already shaking himself out of his posture when his father slaps him._

_"You disgust me. You subs are all the same, spineless and weak, ready to drop to your knees for anyone that collars you."_

_He's expecting the second slap and this time he lets his head roll with it, softening the blow. They're still going to bruise tomorrow, but it'll be the weekend. That's probably why his father is doing this now. Hopefully they fade by Monday…_

_"I'll show you, you fucking- I'll give you a collar."_

_His father fumbles with his belt buckle. His fingers are already clumsy, Akira can smell the alcohol on his breath. He's dangerous like this, if Akira had known, he wouldn't have come home till he passed out, but it's too late now._

_He's not quite all the way down yet, so when his father moves to loop the belt around his head, he tries to resist, grabbing for his wrist. Sometimes when he fights, when he proves he can be more than just a sub, his father lets him go, but this time he gets another backhand which he's not prepared for._

_"Fucking stay still!"_

_The belt is circled around his head, the tail end put through the buckle. Akira's hands come up, trying to pry his fingers underneath the leather, but his father is faster. He tugs hard on the tail of the belt, cinching the leather tight around his throat. The metal of the buckle digs in painfully and he gags, his tongue lolling out. His father laughs._

_"Like a fucking dog. Ichiko, come look at your son!"_

_Mom runs in at her name. Her face pales when she sees him on the floor._

_"Bunta, you're killing him!"_

_His father laughs some more, pulls the belt tighter and Akira scrabbles at the buckle with useless hands, trying to breathe in-_

Akira jerks forward like he always does when Goro puts on his collar, but the collar gives in, giving him more space, falling lower on his neck to graze his collarbones. It is more of a necklace really, red and black cords twisted together and ending in black breakaway clasps. If Akira wants, he can reach up and tear it off, but he doesn't want.

Goro presses close behind him. He's on his knees as well - had to get on them to put the collar on - and his chest is warm against Akira's back, a steadying weight. He drops a kiss to the crown of Akira's head, and Akira can feel his grin against his scalp when he shudders.

"You ready to move?" Goro murmurs into his hair. Akira nods in response.

Goro gets up first, then beckons for Akira. He rises unsteadily. He's always unsure and graceless like this, a far cry from his confident leader persona, but Goro never minds it. He's waiting patiently now as Akira finds his feet, watching him with a tender smile on his face, barely more than a tiny quirk of the lips.

He turns away, heading to the kitchen and Akira makes to follow, but Goro looks over his shoulder. "Bring the pillow with you, darling."

Akira turns back for the pillow and when he pads out of their bedroom, Goro is already by the microwave, putting in a dish of curry to heat up. He looks over to level Akira with a smile. 

"Could you put the pillow by my dining room chair and kneel on it?"

Akira nods, moving to the dining area to place the pillow and kneel as asked. It's only a minute or two before the microwave beeps and Goro comes over with the plate to sit down. He's heated up enough for 2 people and Akira briefly wonders how he is going to eat like this, when Goro takes a bit of rice and some curry with his fingers and holds it out to him. 

Akira hesitates, but Goro doesn't admonish him, just stretches out his arm a bit further. "Come on, Akira," he cajoles.

Akira leans in, taking the bite neatly between his teeth. As he chews, Goro takes a bite for himself with a spoon, then he's reaching out again with a cube of beef. Bite by bite, Goro feeds him his portion of the curry, alternating meat and vegetables and rice until the plate is nearly empty. By the time he holds out the last bite, Akira is listing a little, feeling sleepy from the fullness of his stomach. He leans against the dining table leg and turns his head away at the proffered carrot cube.

"Enough?" Goro asks. Akira nods drowsily.

"Okay. I'm going to do the dishes and get us some water."

Goro gets up, taking the empty dish with him and Akira dozes, fading into a shallow sleep to the lullaby of running water and dishes clinking. When he blinks awake to a bleary awareness, Goro is sitting on the floor in front of him, a bemused smile on his face. Even through the sleepiness, Akira internally preens at the idea of having pleased him. 

"Good morning baby," Goro says, and there's an undertone of amusement to it, "can you drink some water for me?"

Akira straightens, shifting on the pillow and parting his lips obediently. Goro holds a glass of water to his mouth and carefully tips it so Akira can drink. He straightens it every time Akira swallows, wary of overwhelming him. It’s slow going, but the water is almost finished when Akira takes a breath at the wrong moment and sputters, hands coming up instinctively to bat the glass away. Goro manages to keep his hold on the glass, but the remaining water spills down all over Akira's front.

_When Akira is 12, he walks into his bedroom and shuts the door behind him, before collapsing into a heap._

_The fever reducers he had taken in the morning have completely worn off now. It feels like he's burning up from the inside, but he can't stop shivering at every little breeze. All his bones ache and they weigh him down like they're filled with lead instead of marrow._

_Mom had intercepted him at the door when he got back from school, secretively pressing a water bottle and a sleeve of paracetamol into his hands._

_"Don't let your father catch you," she'd whispered, before sending him up to his room._

_With unsteady hands, he presses two of the pills into his palm, downing them with water. It'll take some time before they kick in and the only thing he can do now is try to make himself comfortable. Gingerly, he gets to his feet, placing the bottle on the nightstand before crawling into bed, too lethargic to bother with a shower. Every single part of him hurts, but he knows better than to make a sound._

_He's curled up on his side, just about to fall asleep, when he registers some kind of commotion downstairs. Someone is yelling shrilly and then two pairs of footsteps sound on the stairs, one set heavy and the other frantic. It's his parents, he realises, through the haze of pain and fever._

_The shouting increases in volume as they get nearer till eventually Akira can make out each word that filters through the closed door._

_"You knew that this was going to happen. It’s going to happen every month from now on if you don't bring him down."_

_"I'm not bringing him down! We're not putting any stupid ideas into his head. Teach him to hide it! It's just a little fever, he’s making too much fuss about it."_

_"He's still only a child! Subdrop is difficult even for adults, how do you expect him to hide it?"_

_"Look, he should be thankful to have a roof over his head, I'm not coddling him over this."_

_"This is unsustainable, Bunta!"_

_There's a loud, resounding slap and then a low growl. "Don't talk back to me, woman. He's my son, I'll deal with him however I see fit."_

_His door flies open with a bang, the doorknob denting the opposite wall. Akira jerks up and his head swims, his overheated brain working hard to process the danger. His father stands in the gap and Akira can see Mom behind him, holding her cheek with both hands, startled tears tracking down her face._

_"Akira," his father says. It's just his name, but it sounds like a threat. "Don't lie about in bed. Get up."_

_"Dad," he tries. The words feel so thick and unwieldy on his tongue. "Dad, I'm not feeling well. I'm hot."_

_"Oh?" There's a terrible gleam in his father’s eyes. He takes the water bottle and unscrews it. "Cool down then," he says, and upends it over him._

Akira’s cold and wet and there's an icy fear somewhere in his ribcage, gripping his heart and spreading throughout his body. Something bad has happened, he's not sure what, but it's most likely his fault. It usually is his fault. 

There are hands reaching for him and they look like hurt, they look like harm, and he jerks blindly out of the way. The panic keeps him moving and he crawls forward on his arms, trying to push himself up onto his feet, but his legs are dead from kneeling and they refuse to hold his weight. He goes down heavily to the floor, pins and needles dancing along his feet, up his calves. 

"Red!" He screams before he's really aware of what he's saying. He knows he's supposed to say this to stop- He doesn't know exactly what it stops, but it feels safe and sure in his mind and it sounds like it has meaning aloud. "Red! Red! Red!"

"Shh, shh, Akira. I'm not going to hurt you."

Goro sits a distance away from him, pale as a sheet. His hands are clenched in fists in his lap and his brow is furrowed in abject misery. The sight of him eases the panic a bit, but Akira's breaths are still coming hard and fast, his heart still going a million miles an hour.

Goro smiles at him. It's a wobbly, newborn thing, completely at odds with how his mouth is twisted, in the way that Akira somehow knows means he's holding back tears. 

"Can you breathe with me, darling?"

Akira gasps in response, trying valiantly to comply. Goro breathes in steady inhales and exhales and Akira mimics him until his heaving breaths begin to slow.

"That's it, you're doing so well," Goro soothes, still rooted to his spot on the floor, "You did nothing wrong, Akira. My perfect boy."

They're just words, but he closes his eyes as they rush over him like honey and molasses, settling heavy and sweet in his muscles and easing all the tension away. When he opens his eyes, the smile on Goro's face is more genuine, if still lopsided. He holds out his arms, tilting his head to punctuate the gesture with a question.

“Come here, please?”

Akira crawls over haltingly and when he's only a few inches away, Goro closes the distance, hugging him tight. Strong hands rub along his back, cradle the back of his head and Akira exhales into Goro's neck.

"It was my mistake." Goro keeps his tone soft and low next to his ear. "I'm sorry. That was my fault."

Akira's throat works as he struggles to find his voice. "Not your fault. Mine. Breathed."

Goro chuckles wetly, "Are you saying you shouldn't breathe?"

Akira frowns, burying his frustrated whine into Goro's shirt. Words never come easily to him while he's down and Goro loves to use it to his advantage when teasing him. 

As he suspected, Goro laughs at his complaint, but it holds no real spite. "Yes baby, I know what you mean," he says, patting Akira reassuringly, "We should get you out of this down before sleep, hmm?"

Coming up means _getting up_ and now that the adrenaline is fading, the idea of moving is incredibly unappealing. He grumbles, but Goro pays his protests no mind, hooking his arms under his armpits and hauling him bodily to his feet. Akira continues being a brat upright, sagging into Goro so that he has no choice but to hold him up if he wants to keep them both standing. Goro rolls his eyes, but his mouth is still quirked in a fond smile. 

"Come on now," he coaxes. Akira complies sulkily, holding his own weight as Goro nudges them both back into the bedroom.

Goro walks him over to their bed and he stands by the edge of it to wait, dazedly watching Goro move around, setting out clean pajamas for both of them and throwing open the curtains of their huge double windows. The streetlights stream in, illuminating the room with a dull orange glow, making it no sacrifice to adjust to the darkness when Goro switches the light off. Goro returns to his side, changing his own clothes quickly before coming round to stand in front of him.

There's no risk of anyone seeing them - their room is situated above the ground floor and their window faces out into a quiet street - but Akira blushes anyway when Goro's fingers find the hem of his wet shirt, lifting it to bare his naked chest and stomach, bunching the fabric till he can gather the low, wide collar of it into his hands.

_When Akira is 16, he walks into the street on the outskirts of the Central Shopping District, near to his house._

_Mom had texted him once school was over: "Your father's home. I'll let you know when to come back." But it is getting late now, the sun is rapidly setting, and Mom hasn't sent any new texts._

_He's not sure if she's still trying to distract his father or if she's in trouble, but he starts on the road home anyway. His father tries not to be too loud - the worst thing that could happen would be neighbours finding out after all - so Akira figures that if things were really bad, he'd be able to hear it from the outside._

_He takes his time, walking slowly, when he hears a scream. It's shrill and urgent and it cuts off almost immediately to the sound of a slap echoing down the road. He turns the corner quickly._

_There's an expensive car with tinted black windows and a Tokyo number plate parked by the only nightclub in town. One of the passenger doors is flung wide open and there's a man and a woman scuffling next to it. The man has his hand around the lady's wrist, gripped tight enough to bruise. From this distance, he can hear the man snarl furiously,"How dare you?! Get into the fucking car or it'll only get worse for you."_

_Akira freezes in his steps. The sight is so sickeningly familiar, a scene from any number of his childhood memories playing out before his eyes. He begins backing away, fear prickling up his spine. It isn't any of his business. He has his own problems waiting for him at home, there's no need to interfere._

_Right then, the woman locks eyes with him over the man's shoulder._

_Her eyes are wide, the plea for help clear in her desperate gaze, and there's a red handprint rising on her cheek, stark against her pale skin. She opens her mouth to shout, her lips already forming the words, but the sound never makes it out. The man slams his free hand over her mouth, fingers digging into her cheeks. "Shut the fuck up, you filthy sub!"_

_There's more that he says, but it all fades into white noise as a flood of outrage overcomes Akira._

_Of course, she's a sub. Of. Course._

_It's so fucking unfair. No one asked to be born this way, to be born vulnerable, so why? Why should he have to circle town till he runs out of daylight because he's too afraid to go home? Why does Mom have to cower and cringe and cry, hide him out of sight when his father's car pulls up into the driveway?_

_Since he presented he'd been telling himself, just a little longer and he can leave this shitty little town, run away to a new life where his father could never follow. But this woman, she looks like she has 10 years on him and it's still all the same for her. If it's not his father then it's this man, if not this man then some other dom like him, flinging fists and force, crumpling the weak to the ground._

_The anger builds and builds and builds, and Akira takes step after step after step until he finds himself between the man and woman, and the man is stumbling backwards and falling to the floor._

_The man gets up, practically purple with rage. "You! I'll sue!"_

_The man stalks forward, murder in his eyes, but for some nonsensical reason, the thought that flashes through his head as he straightens defiantly in the face of this intimidating man is: "I'll bet he doesn't think I'm a sub, are you proud of me now, Dad?"_

_The man grabs the front of his shirt and twists it hard-_

The collar of it pulls taut against the back of his neck. He squeezes his eyes shut, but Goro only tugs his shirt over his head, careful to avoid any pressure on his throat.

"Could you lift your arms up for me, baby?"

Akira lets out a breath and lifts his arms, letting Goro drag the shirt off him. Goro tosses it into the laundry hamper and shakes out a fresh shirt, pulling it over his head and helping him get his arms through the sleeves. 

"I'm going to get your pants now," he says once he's done, getting to his knees and tucking his fingers into the waistband of Akira's trousers. He drags them down until they pool around his ankles then gestures with his chin for Akira to step out of them. 

Akira represses a shiver as he does, goose bumps rising at the chill of the night air against his skin. Goro is quick to soothe, running his palms over Akira's bare thighs. Once a fresh pair of pants are on him, Goro rises to his feet, craning his neck to press a kiss to Akira's forehead. Akira can't help the pleased noise that falls from his lips.

"My needy boy," Goro teases, eyes bright with amusement, "come on then."

He climbs into the bed first, adjusting the pillows and blankets before motioning Akira over with spread open arms. Akira crawls in and lies down, obligingly shifting as Goro manhandles him so that Goro is pressed up against his back, their legs tangled together. His breaths are a calming constant on the back of his neck and his heartbeat a regular thud-thudding on his spine. This is their routine for bringing Akira out of a down. 

It makes perfect sense. Haven't they already proven that in every reality, in every state of mind, Goro is his North Star, leading him home? What could work better to call him back to himself than the proof of Goro's life pressed against his body? 

They rest like that for half an hour - or maybe it's closer to an hour when Akira's down breaks over him like a wave. He shudders involuntarily as he surfaces and Goro stirs behind him, rubbing a warm palm over his arm.

"Akira?"

He shivers, teeth chattering in his skull. He's not cold - far from it, between the blankets and the heat of Goro's body, but he can't help the shakes that pass through him. 

"T-the one a-and only," he stutters and Goro's responding huff disturbs the hair at his nape. 

"Indeed," he agrees, dry as a bone, and Akira chuckles despite the shivers that wrack him. He turns about to be face to face with Goro and Goro obligingly wraps his arms around him, tracing meaningless patterns into the small of his back.

"You c-complain, but ad-dmit it, you m-missed my sn-nark."

Goro sighs into the top of Akira's head. "Yes, I have grown accustomed to being constantly irritated. The sudden peace was disconcerting."

"Ouch-ch." 

The shivers subside gradually Akira slumps into Goro’s hold, a dull exhaustion overtaking him. It’s an effort to speak again, but now that his body is no longer making him stumble over his words, he wants to indulge in the curiosity that’s been haunting him since he came back to full awareness. 

“Did you make the curry?”

Goro blinks, startled, and looks down at him suspiciously. 

“Yes.”

“Really?!”

"What?" Goro draws back to level him with an offended frown, "Did you think you were the only one who could cook?"

"Well no… You just never have before."

Goro scoffs, returning to his previous position and slotting his chin back into Akira's hair, "Anyone can cook."

"Now you're just quoting Ratatouille," Akira snorts.

"The principle stands," Goro says haughtily, but he pauses for a beat. "I can get takeout next time." 

His tone is casual, dismissive, but Akira reads between the lines and gently butts his head against Goro's chin. "No, don't. I liked that you cooked," he says, watching the corner of Goro's mouth quirk up in a self-satisfied smirk, "Too much salt though." 

Goro pulls back again, a fierce scowl on his face, but it softens somehow at Akira's shit eating grin. He sighs. 

"I guess I could make it less salty in the future," he acquiesces. 

Akira laughs delightedly, squirming as Goro pinches him in retaliation. They lapse into a comfortable quiet, settling into each other, but now that calm falls between them, Akira can't help but think about the incident with the water.

He's not an easy sub, he's too fearful and too prone to breaking down, to lashing out. He goes down hard, but he needs an gentle hand, and Goro is always careful with him, always treats him like he's precious and good…

But sometimes Goro has to wear those black leather gloves when he brings Akira down because he thinks his hands are too dirty to deserve what they have together. Sometimes Goro has Akira soft and warm and whole in his hands, but sees only blood and a gunshot wound. Sometimes, like earlier, mistakes happen, but Goro's face twists into pain and fear and resignation, and Akira can read his thoughts like a book, _This is it, this time I've broken it beyond repair, just like I always knew I would…_

"Hey…" Akira starts, then stops, missing the words to articulate himself. 

"Hmm?" Goro hums inquiringly, cracking open one eye at him. Akira gathers his courage once again.

"About the water…"

Goro stiffens and Akira brings a hand up to Goro's chest placatingly, "You know it wasn't your fault, right? It was an accident. Those happen. I choke drinking water by myself, it wasn't your fault."

Goro hisses, pushing away and dislodging Akira from his hold, but the damage is done and the words he's been holding back are already spilling from his lips. "I should have been more careful. I could see you'd had enough, I should have-"

"Hey, hey," Akira interrupts, startled by the glint of tears he can see beginning to pool in Goro's eyes. His nostrils flare in a sharp intake of breath and Akira reaches out to cup his face. "You were perfect," he insists.

Goro tries to jerk his head away at the words, but Akira doesn't let him, rolling over on top of him and dropping his elbows into the pillow on either side of Goro's face. "Hush, no listen to me. You were perfect. Nothing's broken. I'm here. I love going down for you." 

Goro makes a pained noise at the words, squeezing his eyes shut, and Akira drops his head down, pressing their foreheads together. Their noses brush. 

"Only for you," Akira whispers against his lips. 

Goro rises up beneath him, capturing his mouth in a kiss.

It's tender and gentle, there's no heat - that's not what this is about. Goro places his hands on his waist, there is a hint of salt on his lips. They break apart on the next breath, blinking their eyes open like reflections of each other, but they stay so close, all Akira can see is the shine of Goro's eyes behind a film of tears.

"I love you," he says into the space between them.

Goro closes his eyes. Two small tears run down his face. 

"I know."

**Author's Note:**

>  **Tag Expansion** :
> 
>   * All flashbacks in italics, feel free to skip if you just want the fluff and hurt/comfort.
>   * Flashback 1 - Akira's father makes Akira kneel on broken glass.
>   * Flashback 2 - Akira is non-consensually/dubiously-consensually whipped and does not know what a safeword is.
>   * Flashback 3 - Akira's father slaps Akira and chokes him with a belt.
>   * Present Scene 3 - Akira accidentally chokes on water when Goro is feeding him water.
>   * Flashback 4 - Akira's father slaps Akira's mother and splashes water on Akira.
>   * Present Scene 4 - Akira uses his safeword because he is confused by the water thing.
>   * Flashback 5 - A retelling of the opening scene of P5 with Shido and the woman.
> 

> 
> Please let me know if I missed anything or if there's anything I can do to make reading this safer for you or for others!
> 
>  **Notes** :  
> [Tuggi](https://twitter.com/JustTuggi?s=20) has drawn this [beautiful piece of art](https://twitter.com/JustTuggi/status/1306242657669316608?s=20), please go check it out!!! 
> 
> If you have read any of my older works, you know I am prone to some seriously self-indulgent stuff, but this really takes the cake. I'm just happily whumping the fuck out of Akira. Well, I'm proud of it and I don't regret a shit. ~~I say this now, but please don't read any of my old work. I was a child. Have mercy. You were young once too.~~
> 
> I hope to write a companion piece from Goro's perspective, but I honestly don't know if I can. It's a crisis. Please send thoughts and prayers at [tumblr](https://ciasquare.tumblr.com) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/ciasquare).
> 
> Other stuffs (feel free to ignore):
> 
>   * Title is from the song U.S. Gay by Sons of an Illustrious Father.
>   * So many scenes didn't make it into this fic because they didn't pass the Mocochang test, she's my quality control y'all.
>   * Gora was horrified by the tags and she couldn't read the fic. "How can you do this to Akira?" she asked me. She doesn't even know what Akira looks like. She's the sweetest bean.
>   * The professional dom and the receptionist are really trying their best, please don't hate them, they are just doing their jobs. :((
>   * When writing this fic, I let Callie take a peek and she was like, omg I hate Akira's father, and I was like yeah, I hate him too! And then proceeded to write about how he choked Akira with a belt. The absurdity of it made me laugh for like a whole minute.
>   * In the game, Akira doesn't really wear collared shirts unless it's a uniform, all his shirts are like low cut, and like it totally works with my story's characterisation of Akira who has trauma around being choked _cackles evilly_.
>   * Honestly though, it would have been so much easier for me if Akira would just wear one (1) button down… There's just no way to make pulling a shirt off someone into a graceful thing…
> 

> 
> As usual, please let me know if you liked this!! I eat validation for breakfast and I ran out of cereal like 2 months ago.


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